Fix you
by WIWJ
Summary: "And the tears come streaming down your face When you lose something you can't replace When you love someone, but it goes to waste Could it be worse?"
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am trusting in the unfolding of life on this one. This is an autobiographical piece. we'll see how it goes.**

_**For Joe. For Always. **_

Faith Miller chewed on the edge of her finger nail as the woman in front of her spoke.

Images threatened to appear, memories nipped at the door between her subconscious and what she allowed herself to think. She resisted the urge to open the door and let it all out again. Let it spill over her senses with the familiar rush of emotion. Familiarity. Devotion. And pain, there was always pain.

"I don't know if he'd listen to me." She shook her head dismissively.

"You'll make him listen!" Her tormentor implored, pressing her sad tired eyes into her own. "You can make him listen."

She considers it, imagining the possibilities, the things he might say. The way he might be; infuriating ways, indifferent ways, defeated, pleading, helpless ways. It stirs something in her; the ways. Something she only lets her self feel under controlled circumstances, on her terms. It's both provocative and frightening. She pushes it away, taking slow deep breaths. He can still do this to her, even after all these years.

"I don't know if I still can." She remembers to respond at some point, swallowing.

"Of course you still can." The other woman scoffs.

"I don't know if I still want to." She thinks to herself, knowing that just because you wish you felt a certain way doesn't make it so. Every fiber of her soul wants to.

"No one's ever been there for him like you, Faith." She watches her mouth form into a tight line. "No one has ever watched out for him like you. Not me. Not his father."

"And where did it get me?" Her voice is sharp. It's the first piece of emotion she's shown, the first glimpse of the fierce protector that Rose Boscorelli remembers from their years together. She withdraws the passion immediately, replacing it with a sad reserve once again. She takes a deep breath. "I can't help him. I tried."

"You are the only one." Rose shakes her head. "I don't know what will happen to him if you-."

"If he wants my help he knows where to find me." Faith rushes the words out, leaning forward as if she can punctuate the point. "He knows where to find me."

"Faith you know he's too damn proud to-."

"So I get to put myself out there again Rose? I get to put my self on the line again, my marriage on the line again, my reputation on the line again? For what? So Maurice Boscorelli can tell me once again to stay the hell out of his life?"

For a minute, Rose looks like she might argue, even plead. Instead she swallows hard and nods. She gathers her purse from the detective's desk, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

"Thanks for seeing me." She hustles for the door without looking back.

"Rose." Faith closes her eyes, feeling the sting of tears that she will not allow to fall. "I want to." She swallows against the cry that has dislodged from her seized lungs. "I just wanted you to know.." She lets her eyes slip open. "I need you to know that I want to. I just can't."

Rose Boscorelli nods sadly before turning back to the door and heading down the hall.

Detective Faith Miller sets her palms on her desk before pushing up and closing her office door. She turns the lock, gripping the knob as she turns her body against the cold flat oak. Carefully, purposefully, she lets go of the tight hold she has on her memories.

She sees his wide eyes widening as he gets a joke she said just for him. She feels the intensity of his gaze as they quickly came up with an almost telepathically communicated plan. She see's the bob of his Adam's apple when he opened up just a little too much. She felt the shake of his resolve as he started to open. She remembers his ragged breath; his smart mouth, his undying support, acceptance and loyalty. Until it did die, until they were no longer friends, until he went away, she remembers that part too.

She see's her hands shake. She feels the tears on her face. She'd forgotten how much it still hurts. She'd forgotten how much she still resents him for the path he chose.

The urge to call him is strong. The urge to mount a rescue is almost too much for her. Almost.

She won't. It's not worth the risk, but she knows that she will replay the choice, dissect the choice, and question the choice. He'll be on her mind. She'll see him in her dreams tonight. She'll think of things she wants to tell him. She'll see things through his eyes again. But it will fade again, back into the box she keeps 'everything him' in, and the pain will go from sharp to dull. Life without him will go on.


	2. Chapter 2

She rubs her eyes and looks away from the computer screen. Her brain is searching for him again.

It's not that it never did that anymore. If she tried to say that she'd be lying, but it happens too often these days for her liking.

Her mind had from time to time in the past six years start riffling through her thoughts and memories and start yanking out old ones and tirelessly looking for new ones.

It was almost like her subconscious was trying to keep him current, refusing to let him sink into the recesses of her brain and be forgotten. Sometimes it was a new song that hit the radio that would shoot through her like a chill and she would almost call him and ask if he'd heard it yet.

One night she and John had been watching one of those corny reality shows and the main character was so familiar it hurt. She wondered if Rose had ever been to a gun shop in Jefferson Parish because she was fairly certain that this man was Bosco's actual father and Anthony was none the wiser.

She stores these things in the back of her mind in a part of her that waits for him to come back so she can share it all with him. Sometimes she dreams she's telling him, sitting in the car with his body turned around leaning against the dash board. In her imagination, she can accurately recall the lapping of the water by the spot where they used to park and talk. Her subconscious can recall his voice in a way she can no longer do while awake.

Today, her mind is relentlessly searching for things, giving her a running commentary on what he would think of what she is doing right now. His name is threatening to be on her lips when she goes to speak. She has purposefully left the address book that contains his phone number at home so her fingers can't make the decision for her.

She looks at her cell phone again, even though she knows that Davis would have let her know immediately if he'd contacted him. She bites her lip.

Davis.

She shouldn't have involved Davis in this, but she had to do something. The annoying little seeds that Rose had planted in her mind had become fast growing vines that wrapped themselves around her lungs making it difficult to ignore the labored breaths. So she had called Ty. Asked Ty to reach out; assured herself it didn't count if it came from Ty and not her. Maybe she though it would hurt less, him not reaching back to Ty. It wouldn't be a direct rejection of her; of what they had once been to each other.

Except it she see's now that the sadness is replaced by a low and grumbling bitterness. Why won't he talk to Ty? Why won't he reach for Ty? He wouldn't ignore _her_ this way. That's what the safety of Ty's attempt has given her, the glimmer of hope that he would reach back to _her_.

The silence eats her.

She shakes her head, leaving her phone on her desk and pushing through the door and into the bullpen of offices.

"I'm going out." She mutters to the admin assistant that sits closest to her door.

"Out?"

"Yes. Lunch." She decides, pulling her coat off of the rack and slipping it on.

"It's 10:15." The woman gives her an odd look.

"Early Lunch." Faith forces her lungs to open wider despite the vines.

"So I should cancel your lunch plans with Lieutenant Miller?" Damn it. That's right. John.. her husband.

"Um.. no.. I." She stops and thinks. "I'm just going to go run some things over to Port Authority then." Her eyes scan the room around around her. "I know we had something that had to go to-."

The woman wordlessly holds up a large group of manila envelopes.

"Thank you."

"Cabin Fever?" She suggests, looking at Faith sympathetically.

"Something like that." She mutters making her way out the door before she can look any more stupid.

Her car is her refuge. She sits for a while trying to decide where to go. Not the spot at the water, not by Roses old bar. She makes the decision that driving by the old 55 may be the least crazy thing she can do.

However when she feels the dampness on her cheeks as she stares at building now touting loft space and two bedroom condo's she reconsiders. It was so simple then.

Right after it happened she would dream she was back there, scouring the crowded hallways for him. Looking searching. Knowing somehow he didn't have to be there anymore. He could be someplace else, someplace where she couldn't go and force him to be stuck with her. She searched for him just the same.

Part of her wonders if he has ever done this himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

**_"And I just want to tell you  
It takes everything in me not to call you  
And I wish I could run to you  
And I hope you know that  
Everytime I don't,  
I almost do, I almost do" _**

**Taylor Swift_, I almost do_**

* * *

_You can't help him. _

Faith turns the phone around in the palm of her hand a few times before handing it back to Ty.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"That's all he said." Davis looks at her with a soft concern before dropping his gaze to his fries. "I told him I was having trouble getting in touch with him. That I wanted to see him." Ty tapped his cell phone again. "That's what I got."

Faith starts untangling the narrative that Sully's comment has started in her mind.

"He knows you talked to me?" She chewed on her lip.

"I told him we'd been hanging out a little." Davis nods. Faith wonders silently who the conversation is really between. Is it Sully talking to Ty or Sully talking to her. Is it Sully admitting he needs help? Is it Sully talking to Bosco? That possibility makes her swallow hard.

Is it Bosco talking to her through Sully and Ty?  
That's the thought that makes her wonder if she should be talking to a shrink or something.

"What did you say?" She whispers.

"I said I didn't want to help him. I just wanted to see him. Hang out. Catch up."

"Maybe he won't because he knows you've been hanging out with me." She isn't fully sure she meant to say that out loud. Davis's eyes roll a little as he slurps from the straw, she waits for his chastising.

"I think you are thinking too much." He tells her pointing at her with his soda cup.

"You have no idea." She sighs.

"We'll get him out Faith." Davis shakes his head. "Even if I have to drag Sully along with me to yank him out the door."

She's not sure that's fair, what if Rose is wrong. What if he's accepting his new life? What if he still thinks they made the right choice? What if she's invading? What if she's doing this for her and not for him?

"Earth to Faith?"

For a second it's not Davis' voice she hears. Its Bosco's.

Her eyes flip up and she expects to see his blue eyes starring back at her. His face twisted into a wince. _Are you crackin' up or somethin' Yokas?_

"What?" She manages to squeeze out the word.

"I said don't worry about it. I'll text him again."

She wishes he wouldn't have said that. She wants her life to go back to normal. She wants to tell him to leave Bosco alone.

But the reality is more than anything, she wants to see Bosco. She needs to look at him. Survey him; to see for herself if he needs help, if she can help him. She swallows, looking over her shoulder up at the walls like they hold answers. As long as it's Davis and not her she's not really giving in. As long as he's doing the reaching it's not really her. She takes a long slow breath before nodding her head at Davis.

She can't possibly look him in the eye.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:**

**"She can concentrate on workin'  
Until her work is done  
She can hold a conversation  
As well as anyone  
She'll fool you with sincerity  
And if you didn't know her well  
You would never see it  
You could never tell"**

**-reba mcentire "just looking for him" **

* * *

_She dreams he's too busy to talk to her._

_She stands outside a crime scene in a black cocktail dress with Ty and Sully, watching him move trash bags out of the house's front door in his dark blue uniform. He looks up for a second, then back to the bags. She waits, watching him take out the garbage. Sully talks to him on each trip, he answers with one word replies. She tries to act natural. She hasn't seen him in six years though, natural is a relative term._

...

It's been two weeks since the first text message went out. No word. Ty's promises to put the heat on Sully hasn't worked, or he hasn't done it. Faith's not sure and she can't ask. It's too much, she can't risk crossing that line. If she does she's not sure she'll remember how to cross back. Not just that, but what would they think of her, not getting the hint?

In her own brain however, she has accepted she cannot take that hint. Everything that ever meant anything too them is suddenly raw and fresh in her memory. So much so that John has noticed.

"So how you feeling about this Bosco thing?" He asks nonchalantly clearing dishes off the table. She told him of course, because they are married, and they have a good marriage. Not like last time. She wonders, not for the first time, if that would change if Bosco were back. "Any new developments?"

She wants to hide it, her overwhelming desperation. She wonders how it would affect John if he knew the raging war with in her.

"No." She sighs. " I'm not sure where it stands. He hasn't said anything to Ty at all. I think he's talking to Sully but I don't know that for sure either." She shrugs. "I'm out of the loop I guess."

"But you want to be in it?" He asks. Part of her wants to snap at him and the other part wants to comfort him. John for his part, is expertly treading lightly around something big. He knows that, but he has no idea how big. Faith thinks he has the delicate precision of a member of the bomb squad.

"I don't know." She lies. She didn't know at first, but now she does. Now she knows.

"I don't know why you'd want to be roped back into that mess. He's all consuming." John sighs.

She is consumed, she thinks to herself. The wall has fallen and with him or without him, she's consumed.

"We were friends for a long time. It's hard to turn your back on that." She takes the sponge from the sink and wipes it across the smooth surface of her stove top. It's still hot in some places and she lingers there, enjoying the sensation.

"You're going to burn the sponge." John snorts, coming up behind her.

"I like the way it feels." She smiles at him and he kisses her temple.

"It's metaphoric." He grins as his head disappears into the fridge to put away the remnants of dinner.

She considers it, wondering if she's about to get burned again.

...

_I don't think he's wanting to get together with all of us. Sully's asking him if he's even willing to see me._

She looks at Davis' text again. The heat rises in her chest until she's afraid she'll scream. This was one of the scenarios she'd thought she'd come to terms with. She'd broken down and emailed Sully, telling him if she was what stood between Bosco reuniting with the old 55, then she would bow out. She had remove herself from the equation, gracefully, like an adult. The text still hurts like hell though.

After all they'd been through, after all those years apart, he still didn't want to talk to her? She glared at the phone again, imagining them making plans to meet. It starts to eat at her and she lets it. Too many weeks of feigning indifference, of watching Ty and Sully and pick up right where they left off, leaves her raw and vaguely abandoned.

Partnerless.

She grips at the phone before scrambling to the drawer and searching until she finds his number. She's going to end this on her terms. She'll have the last word, thank you very much.

_It's Faith, please call Ty. He's driving me crazy, go see him. _

With a deep breath Faith Miller presses send and ends six years of silence.


End file.
